My love
It’s like the dank tea bag in my empty cup –
Used, drained and discarded
My love
It’s like the inbox of my e-mail account –
Cluttered, with epitaphs of my past
And yours
My love
It’s like your threadbare, chequered socks
With little holes around the toes -
How you loved to dance in them!
My love
Is in the fading lilies
Pressed between the pages of Neruda -
Some words of loss
Some words of hope.
My love
It’s like the alley by your place –
No matter where I go
It leads me back to you.
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